


Draw Dead, Dominated Hand

by SinbinSmut



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Dom/sub, Gambling, Glove Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:12:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinbinSmut/pseuds/SinbinSmut
Summary: AU setting; Ging didn't meet Kite soon enough to take him on as a student, instead falling head-over-heels for the mob boss who's catapulted him into debt.





	Draw Dead, Dominated Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boxocats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxocats/gifts).



> This was the result of me being totally enraptured by boxocats' lovely mob boss!Kite!! （*’∀’人）♥ I posted it in two pieces on Tumblr a while back, then was struck by the urge to finish up the final scene and post it kind of 'officially'.

The thrill of gambling had always been lost on Ging, given that the jobs he took paid more than most people saw in a lifetime. Whatever payout he could get was paltry in comparison. But now he felt the electric thrill down his spine, the cards in his hand almost crinkling with the force of his hold on them. He had to fight to keep a grin off his face, counting the club-laden sequence of five. A straight flush, the second-best hand he could have gotten. Nigh on unbeatable.

He would have eyed the stack of chips on the table if he didn’t think it would give him away. As it stood, he held the gaze of his opponent firmly and kept his expression neutral—or as neutral as he could with his adrenaline-junkie heart pounding.

The mob boss fanned himself with his cards a little, his silver hair not swept up into a neat ponytail drifting in the wind. His face betrayed nothing, fixed into an enigmatic smile. Every so often his crossed leg pressed up against Ging’s under the table just slightly. His tongue would poke out just enough to wet his bottom lip, just enough to draw attention. Just enough for Ging to get a taste of being teased.

What hands he’d won had bought Ging facts: that his name was Kite, he was somewhere in his mid-twenties, and he liked men.

“How bold,” had been Kite’s exact words, spoken in a low, languid cadence that seemed too peaceful for either a clanging casino or a mob boss renowned for his mercilessness. “Yes, I like men.” He’d run a finger over his lips and smiled and slid his foot up Ging’s calf to his knee, hovering dangerously close to his inner thigh. “I like… hmm… dark-haired men, a little older than me, unkempt but stylish in a scruffy sort of way. Adventurous. _Bold_.

“And rich,” he’d added, and laid down a hand that decimated Ging’s bank account.

Worth it, Ging thought. And this in mind, he carefully stacked up a tower of grey chips.

“Raise,” he said, and grinned at Kite’s arched eyebrow. “We should end with a bang, don’t you think? How’s this—if you win this hand, this stack will represent all the money I have.”

That, finally, cracked the veil of icy politeness enough for Ging to catch a flicker of genuine surprise in Kite’s eyes. “I see,” Kite said, playing his slender fingers over his hand of cards. “And if you win, what does it represent?”

“A night spent with you.”

Kite stilled for a long moment, staring unblinkingly at him. Ging waited, heart in his throat.

“Raise,” Kite finally said, every movement deliberate as he pushed his own stack of grey chips into the center. His smile settled into its aloof certainty again as Ging swallowed, the floor dropping out from under him in both elation and uncertainty. On the table, Kite’s fingers curled around the curve of Ging’s palm. “As much time as you want with me,” he purred, “or more money than you have.”

His mouth gone dry, Ging appreciated for the first time how addictive the feeling of teetering on the edge of defeat was. All that he knew about Kite, and the mob he ran, said that he’d never make such a bet without being sure of victory. Logically, the chance that he’d gotten the one hand he could win with was tiny—but for someone who only ever touched Ging from a distance, in light brushes and too-short handshakes, he’d bet his body without batting an eyelash.

(A little bit, he hoped that Kite would lose on purpose.)

Kite traced formless patterns along Ging’s palm that were more vivid in their sensation than anything he’d felt in a long while. Ging shook his head and laughed.

“There aren’t a lot of people who can manipulate me, you know,” he said, and laid out his straight flush.

Kite smiled, let go of his hand, and spread his cards out in front of himself. A royal flush shone up at Ging, the suit of hearts almost painfully crimson. “How would you like to pay me, Mr. Freecss? Or do my boys have to convince you to keep your word?”

 

 

//

 

 

He’d developed something of a fixation on Kite’s gloves by the time the mob boss deigned to knock him on his back and tug open his pants.

“You’re only racking up interest, Ging,” Kite said mildly, slipping his leather-bound fingers into the slit of Ging’s boxers and pulling out his rapidly hardening cock. He flicked the tip of it disinterestedly, making it bob, and Ging’s breath hitched. There wasn’t much he could do with his hands bound behind his back other than thrust his hips up into the air and hope he could bump into Kite’s hand; he burned with the familiar flame of desire, and it all depended on hands whose skin he’d never even glimpsed.

“Are you listening to me?” Kite demanded, gripping Ging’s chin and holding his gaze. The glove’s leather creaked, and the seam pressed into his jaw. “Every second you spend here, impotently trying to convince me that _this_ —” he tapped Ging’s cock again with a sneer— “is worth my time, is a second you’re not doing your part to pay me back. Can you afford it?”

Ging dragged his attention away from the faint scent of leather enough to mumble “Worth it.”

Kite’s eyebrows arched. “Oh?” he purred, and Ging huffed out a moan of surprise when he felt a soft touch circling the head of his dick. Kite stared at his face, eyes half-lidded, as he gently teased Ging to full hardness. “You like it that much, do you?”

“Yes,” Ging said, without hesitation. He wasn’t the sort to get caught up in shame.

Kite hummed and squeezed him, tugging sharply. “I see.” He leaned forward, hovering over Ging with the grace of a jungle cat and all of the predatory air. His hand kept moving, occasionally sliding down far enough to massage Ging’s balls with his palm. No matter how Ging tried to jerk up and fuck the tight circle of his fingers, it didn’t break his rhythm. “And what else are you willing to pay for?

“Do you want me to make you cum? Keep jerking your pathetic cock until you’re spent? Or maybe you’d prefer my mouth.” He barely batted an eye at Ging’s groan, seemingly untouched by the filthy words on his lips. “I bet you’d last a second or two if I did that. Maybe you’d cum the second it touched my tongue. Even that’s not worth the effort. You’re really not giving me a reason to bother with you, Ging… And that’s a shame, because you’ve got a decent enough face…”

His glove was getting covered with the precum dripping off Ging’s cock, the slickness heightening the hot pulse of pleasure up Ging’s spine. Ging couldn’t decide where to keep his eyes; the dexterous fingers, shiny and wet, or the coldly amused stare pinning him in place. Both made his blood burn and heat rise in his gut.

“Not a lot of people have touched me, you know,” Kite purred. “You could promise me your life and it wouldn’t match the price. How many men like you have plunged into debt so they could slobber on my shoe with their disgusting mouths? I haven’t been counting. You grovel just like they all did.”

He read the tension in Ging’s body and slowed his pace, holding him on the edge with the tip of one finger perched against his slit. A centimeter’s movement there was enough to overwhelm Ging, stringing him along past what even he thought could be possible.

“You’re pretty when you squirm, though,” Kite breathed, “so if you’re good, maybe I’ll reward you.”

“Please,” Ging bit out.

“Please what?”

“ _Please_ let me cum.”

Kite smiled, momentarily benevolent, and twisted his wrist to send Ging over the edge in one mean movement. The abrupt release wiped all thought from his mind, and for a few blessed seconds he was just pleasure, pleasure, pleasure.

After, when he was limp on the floor trying to catch his breath, Kite pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth and slipped his leather-bound, cum-stained fingers inside to be licked clean.


End file.
